Remembering Floyd Nightingale
by Samantha14
Summary: Jess Mariano has a steady job as a nurse, a steady girlfriend, and steady friends. In short, his life is simple. So, in order to shake things up, Rory Gilmore walks back into his life. Only she still thinks she's nineteen, and he's in love with her.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **_Remembering Floyd Nightingale_  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.  
**Summary:** Jess is a nurse, with a doctor for a girlfriend. He's older, more mature, and has made friends with people he works with. So, the one thing to sour his life? Rory Gilmore. However, she doesn't seem to remember much, seeing as she might have amnesia.  
**Spoilers:** _Very_ slight for November 1st. (Jess comes back!)  
**Rated:** T for later chapters.  
**A/N: **I know nothing about the medical profession, besides what I've learned from _ER_ reruns and my own research on the internet. So anything glaringly wrong, point it out to me and I'll fix it. Also, I need a beta, so anyone interested, please e-mail me. Link's in the sig.

* * *

He knocked on the door to the conference room upstairs. There was a soft, "Come in," and so he pushed the door open and loped into the room.

"Mr. Mariano, I presume." The reporter at the head of the table held out her hand; he shook it. "Please, be seated," she said, gesturing toward the chairs on her right. He pulled out a chair, leaving an empty one between them, and sat down, leaning back and crossing his legs, his right ankle over his left knee.

"So, how are we doing this?" he asked, lacing his fingers together and resting them just above the waistband of his scrubs.

"I'm going to ask you questions, and you, the best male nurse in the emergency department, are going to answer."

"Ah, but if I were the best, would I be doing PR?"

The reporter paused, and smiled. "I hadn't thought of that. Perhaps you're just the one they thought could give the hospital a good name."

"Perhaps."

"Do you mind if I tape this?" she asked, pulling out a handheld tape recorder. He shook his head, and she set it on the table between them, microphone pointed at him. "Alright," she whispered, before turning fully to him and smiling. "State your full name."

"James William Mariano the third."

"The third? Really?"

He nodded. "My grandfather was the first, and went by William. My maternal grandfather's name was William as well. My father went by Jimmy, and I go by Jess."

"How do you get Jess from James William?"

He shrugged. "My mother picked it out of her ass."

The reporter raised her eyebrows, but nodded, jotting something down. "Didn't you write a book called The Subsect?" she asked, looking back up at him.

"Yes, a long time ago. I published it, and it did fairly well, but it wasn't as satisfying as I always thought it'd be."

"And so you became a nurse?"

"Well, it wasn't quite a one or the other option, but yeah."

"So, what's the story behind the career jump?"

Jess dropped his leg to the ground and rested his elbows on his knees, leaning towards the reporter. "So one day, I was standing in the subway, staring into space and thinking how writing was all about deadlines, and editing, and how it wasn't as easy as I thought it was. I had offers to get my second story published, as long as I came up with a synopsis and a first chapter by a certain time. I was about 22, 23. I didn't know if I wanted to be a novelist anymore, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to commit.

"So I'm thinking all of this while standing near the doors in the subway, and it's not too crowded 'cause it's ten in the morning, but there's still no place to sit. And this guy, this young guy only a little older than me, suddenly collapses. Now, after the fact, everyone says that they saw him get on, and they noticed he wasn't looking too good, but they were all standing so there's no way they could have offered him their seat." He shakes his head. "They didn't all see him get on. It's New York, he was quiet, no one cared. So he falls on the floor, and he's seizing, and people gasp and move out of the way, and he hits his head on a metal pole, and nobody moves toward him to help him at all. And so I did.

"Now, my extent of medical training at this time was_ ER_ reruns. So, I tried my best. I straddled him across the chest, and held his face down, and tried to keep him from biting his tongue. Eventually, he stopped seizing, but he stopped breathing, too. And the train pulls to a stop, and people all rush off, and no one really rushes on, and by this point I'm really freaked out, but I'm almost working on adrenaline. I point at this one guy who looks like he's disgusted and can't move, and I scream, 'You! Get on! Dial 911!' And he's scared, but he does as I say, and I move off of the other guy, and start pumping his chest and performing CPR, but I don't know what I'm doing, and I'm scared out of my wits, and I was relieved beyond measure when we pulled up in the other station and paramedics rushed him off. But I was also on an adrenaline high, and I got to thinking. You know, wouldn't it be cool to do this kind of stuff all the time?"

Jess shrugged, and leaned back in his chair, re-crossing his legs and placing his hands above his waist again. "So, since I had a GED, I started a paramedics course. I got the basic EMT training, and decided I never wanted to do it while moving ever again. So, I found a school, went for three years, and became a nurse."

"Wow," the reporter said softly. She was leaning towards him, enthralled as she was with his story. He gave her a smile, and she realized what she was doing. She cleared her throat, sat up straight, and asked the next question. "So, how old are you now?"

"Thirty-one," he answered.

"And why did you decide to be a nurse, and not a doctor?"

He scoffed. "Are you kidding me? I had a hard enough time in high school. I was not going to college for eight years." He shrugged. "Three seemed a little more manageable."

"And you've been a nurse for how long?"

"Five years. And, before you ask, I've been here, in the emergency department, the whole time."

The reporter opened her mouth to ask another question, but there was a knock on the door to the conference room, and a petite blonde doctor stuck her head in.

"Excuse me, Ms. Guy," she said in a slight Southern drawl, smiling, "but we have a trauma coming in, and we need all hands on deck."

Jess looked at the reporter. "We all done here?"

She sighed, but nodded. "I've probably got enough."

"Any follow-up questions, you know where to find me," Jess said, leaving his chair and striding towards the door.

"Yes, sir," the reporter called as Jess disappeared. "Good luck!"

Jess didn't acknowledge the reporter's words, and instead followed the doctor into the empty elevator. When they got there, he backed her up into a corner, put both of his hands on the wall above her head, and kissed her fiercely.

"How'd you like that rescue?" Camille asked against his mouth, smiling.

"Perfect," he murmured, moving from her lips to nibble her neck.

"Jess," she giggled, pushing him away. "Last time I got a hickey."

"Just one? I must be losing my touch." He paused just long enough in his attack to smile devishly at her. She pushed him away from her neck, and took his lips in hers again.

"Wanna go out tonight?" he asked into her mouth.

"Dinner?"

"Maybe more," he said, shrugging.

"Okay."

He finally pulled away from her, and, breathing hard, with a glint in his eyes, asked, "Pick you up at ten?"

Almost disappointed, she shook her head. "I don't get off 'til eleven."

"So," he said, leaning in to kiss her softly, "you'll pick me up."

"Okay," she said, smiling. She gave him one last quick kiss before the elevator doors slid open, and they emerged, not as Jess and Camille, but as Dr. Watts and Nurse Mariano.

The rest of his shift passed without incident. Though Camille had tempted the fates by making up a fake trauma, there was no real trauma for the rest of the day. Jess even managed to make it out of the hospital by 7:30, after ending his shift at seven.

With at least four hours before Camille would be free, Jess decided to take the guys up on their daily offer and headed to the bar a block down the street. As soon as he entered, a large group of already half-drunk men in scrubs sitting at the bar screamed his name.

"Man, I feel like I'm in an episode of _Cheers_," he said to Ben Sugarman, his best friend. He leaned over the bar and ordered a beer.

"Mariano!" Ben yelled suddenly, slinging an arm over the other man's shoulder. "You're here!"

"Yes, I am," Jess said, laughing. "Why are you all still in your scrubs?"

"Ha!" Ben practically screamed. "We like to pretend like we're going off to surgery or whatever after we get piss-ass drunk."

"Did you start earlier than everyone else?" Jess asked, leaning closer to him.

Ben laughed. "Oh, you know it!"

Jess nodded knowingly. "Alice pissing you off again?"

Ben grimaced, and repeated, "Oh, you know it."

Jess shook his head. "You need to do something, man. Divorce her or sweep her off her feet or something. Hanging around bars and slowly becoming an alcoholic isn't helping anything. Thanks," Jess said to the bartender, accepting his beer.

Ben scoffed. "Is that_ light_ beer?" He shook his head. "What's wrong with you, man? Why don't you ever forget about things and just let loose once in a while?" He slapped Jess on the back. "Be a real man! Drink real beer!"

"Light beer's better for you, Sugarman."

"Well, at least drink more than one," Ben said grudgingly.

Jess shook his head. "I'm going out with Camille later."

Ben made a whip noise and flicked his wrist. "Talk about an unhealthy relationship."

"My relationship with Cam is just fine."

"She doesn't acknowledge you in public, man! That--that is sucky."

Jess, unable to disagree, just nodded and took a sip of his beer.

He stayed at the bar for two hours, and switched to Cokes after his first beer. The slightly smaller group of more-than-half-drunk men was sad to see him go, but he ignored their peer pressure to stay for one more drink and headed for his apartment. He took a shower, dressed in clean slacks and a button-down, and fixed dinner. He was lighting the candles in the middle of the table when the doorbell rang.

"Hey," he said when he opened the door, and leaned to kiss Camille. She returned it half-heartedly, though, and shrugged off his other advances as she walked into his apartment.

"I am exhausted," she said, her slight accent thicker, as she dropped into her chair at the table.

He did nothing but kiss her sweetly on the forehead, before heading to the kitchen to pick up plates. When he re-entered the living/dining room, Camille's head was thrown back, her eyes were closed, and she was breathing regularly. He deposited the plates at their places, and then moved to wake her.

"Cam. Cam, wake up."

"Huh?" She suddenly snapped to. "I'm awake. What do we got?"

"cam, how long were you on shift?"

"Um," she asked, blinking at Jess and just realizing where she was. "Twenty...seven hours, maybe?"

Jess shook his head. "Go to bed. We'll have dinner another time." Jess moved to pick up the plates, and before he left the room, she was sleeping again.

She was small–barely five feet and only a hundred pounds–and so when he returned he scooped her in his arms and carried her to his room. He slowly yet unceremoniously laid her on his bed, where she immediately spread-eagled, taking over the entire thing. He sighed, and managed to wrangle a pillow from her, and moved into his study, where he had a small futon shoved against one wall. He tossed the pillow on the futon and moved to his bookcases, which were full and covered two full walls. There was also a small computer desk and his laptop, on the wall with the door. There was a window in there somewhere, too, but it was hidden behind bookcases.

He pulled out a book, grabbed a ballpoint pen from his desk, and settled on the futon to read.

–

She was wearing an ankle-length hippie skirt and an oversized off-white sweater that swallowed her and made her hands disappear. Her dark hair was duller than it had ever been, and she'd pinned it back with two bobby-pins, but it was mostly free. She was wearing cloth Mary Jane shoes, and skipped in them down the street.

Her single piece of jewelry was a tiny diamond ring. It was almost too small to constitute a diamond, but she loved it, and it was the reason she felt giddy enough to skip down the streets of New York early on a Saturday morning.

She turned a corner and found a taxi, just sitting there as if waiting for her. She could hardly believe her luck. She walked up to the car and stuck her head in the open passenger window.

"Hi," she said. "Got a customer?"

The cabbie shook his head, and said, "He's running upstairs to get his waller. I'll be free after that."

"May I?" she asked, moving towards the back. He nodded, and so she slipped in. The man came downstairs quickly, and gave the cabbie an extra ten dollars for waiting. The driver was in a much better mood after that, and happily drove her from Brooklyn to Midtown in Manhattan. They even struck up a conversation, and were laughing so uproariously as they turned their final corner that neither noticed the car speeding through the red light to the right of them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:**_Remembering Floyd Nightingale_  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.  
**Summary:** Jess is a nurse, with a doctor for a girlfriend. He's older, more mature, and has made friends with people he works with. So, the one thing to sour his life? Rory Gilmore. However, she doesn't seem to remember much, seeing as she might have amnesia.  
**A/N:** Dude! You guys! Aw! I got 16 reviews! That's _awesome_! So, this is chapter two. I researched the hospital, and kinda/sorta the disorder. But any medical errors, just tell me nicely in a review, and I shall fix them. It's been ages since I've seen ER.

This chapter is dedicated to my betas, especially Asa and Lydia, who showed me just how kick-ass betas could be.

Chapter three should be out by Nov. 1st, which is when I'm going to try to return to the internet.

--

Jess awoke the next morning with a paperback on his chest and a crick in his neck. Blearily he rubbed his eyes, ridding himself of any leftover sleepiness, and stood slowly. He groaned as his back cracked, a reminder that he was approaching middle age faster every day. He deposited the paperback on his desk, planning to finish it later, and walked into the bedroom.

Sure enough, she was gone. He checked the clock--it was only eight. Camille had obviously gotten her seven and a half hours of sleep and then left, most likely to run back to the hospital. She had been working so much lately it was a wonder she and Jess managed to go out at all.

He didn't work nearly as much as she did, but he was lucky enough to be a nurse, not a doctor always working to get to the next level, be it resident, attending, or whatever came next. Plus, he belonged to a union and they had rules about how much he could work. And this morning, he wasn't scheduled to go in until ten, so he had a little time.

He got dressed and headed downstairs, out into the world. There was, of course, a Starbucks on the corner, so he grabbed a whole-wheat bagel with all natural cream cheese and a coffee and headed for the gym. He tried to work out whenever possible, though it was never anything too strenuous; he just tried to keep his body in shape. This morning, he used the rowing machine for about half an hour, just barely enough to break a sweat. Then he headed for the showers, changed into his scrubs and headed for work.

Little did he realize how much his life would change when he got there.

He'd been at work for barely fifteen minutes when the first trauma came in. A drunk driver, still on a bender from last night, and his three drunken friends were all shoved into a two-door that slammed into a cab rounding a corner. The drunks were all critical, and two of them had been sent to a different hospital. The cab driver was joking with the paramedics on the way over, but had a visibly broken arm. And his passenger, a woman traveling alone, was the least hurt of them all. She had a large cut on the side of her head from where she'd slammed into the window, and was a likely candidate for post-traumatic stress disorder, but other than that she was fine.

This was why Dr. Barnes handed her chart over to Jess before rushing to the trauma room.

"Just suture the wound. I'll be back later to stitch her up."

"What's her name?" Jess asked. He liked to know the names of people before he worked on them. It seemed to make their stress levels deplete with the idea of someone friendly in such a harsh place.

Dr. Barnes glanced at the chart, before holding it out for Jess. "Gilmore."

Jess stared at the chart in shock, and then at the doctor's retreating back. There was absolutely _no_ way this could be the Gilmore he was thinking of. He read the full name, almost wishing it was his aunt--though he knew his aunt took pride in the Danes name. Maybe it was his aunt's mother. Yeah! That had to be it. This was not--oh, God--Lorelai Leigh Gilmore, as the chart stated, but Emily Gilmore, Hartford socialite. Of course. And Emily could easily pass for 31, right? Right.

Gathering his courage, Jess drew back the curtain around the bed. There she was. Lorelai Leigh Gilmore, aged 31. Her hair wasn't shiny, as he remembered, and she was wearing clothes he never would have thought she'd be caught dead in, but those were most definitely her eyes, and they lit up when she saw him.

He gulped almost audibly, and forced a smile. "Rory," he said, nodding. "What'd you do?"

She cocked her head to the side, and a confused look passed over her face. But she visibly shook it off, and smiled, a little sheepishly. "You know, to be fair, I'm not entirely sure. I woke up in the ambulance, with blood all down the right side of my face. They told me I was in a taxi, but I have no clue what I was doing in the taxi, where I was going, or from where I was coming." She laughed a little.

He sighed. He couldn't do this anymore. "What are you doing in New York? Did you come to see me? I wouldn't think you would deign to see lowly old me."

Her face fell, and she said softly, "I don't know who you are, or what you're talking about, but like I said: I don't remember anything."

He kept his face stony, and said, "How did the chart get filled out, if you don't remember anything?"

She shrugged. "I think they had my purse."

"Rory, why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" she asked desperately. "I'm not doing anything! I don't remember anything!"

"Something wrong, Mariano?"

He spun around to face his girlfriend, standing near him with a chart in her hand and a waiting look on her face.

"No, Dr. Watts. Just a little patient history."

She just pursed her lips, nodded, and left with a, "Just see you keep it down."

He turned back to Rory, who lifted her hands and said, "Don't get on me. I don't know what you're talking about."

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Are you real? You really don't remember me?"

She shook her head. "Who are you?" she asked, interested now.

Jess snorted. "Amnesia seems a little cliché, doesn't it, Rory?"

"Stop calling me Rory!" she almost yelled. "It says my name's Lorelai."

"No! Your mother's name is Lorelai; your name is Rory."

"That's not what my ID said, apparently. And how do you know?"

"Oh, forget it," he said, walking around to her right side and pulling a suture kit out. "I'm just having a nightmare, that's all." He worked for a few minutes, cleaning the blood from the side of her face. When he looked in the wound he noticed a sparkling, and he grimaced when he realized she had tiny particles of glass in the side of her head.

"What's wrong?" Rory asked when she saw his grimace.

"Nothing," he said with a smile at her. "Nothing at all."

"Don't lie to me, Jess. I hate when you lie."

"God, Rory. Let it go," he said, leaning over her with tweezers. Then her words finally hit him, and he said, "I thought you didn't remember me."

"Uh...I don't. I just hate when all doctors lie. Lying sucks," she ended softly, cowering just a bit under his accusing gaze.

"You called me Jess," he said simply, keeping his eyes on hers.

"The other doctor called you Jess!" she said triumphantly after a minute.

"No, she didn't. She always calls me Mariano." Camille, in an effort to distance herself from her boyfriend and squelch any rumors before they started, never referred to Jess by his first name, though most everyone else on the emergency department staff did.

Rory, however, was saved from trying to make up an answer by the return of Dr. Barnes. He was smiling as he approached them, and clapped Jess on the back.

"How're we doing over here?"

Jess looked at Rory one last time, and then said, "Patient exhibits signs of retrograde amnesia. She also has glass in her wound that I'm working on getting out."

Rory nodded, though a little surprised at that glass remark, and then asked, "How is the cab driver?"

"He's fine," Dr. Barnes said. "We set his arm and sent him home with his wife. The other driver and his passenger are upstairs in the ICU, with instructions that they be released into police custody when they are better."

Rory smiled. "Good."

"Jess, if you'd be so kind as to order a CAT scan and get someone from psychiatry down here, I'll finish up with Ms. Gilmore."

"Psychiatry?" Rory asked in a small voice.

"Yes, ma'am," Jess said before Dr. Barnes could speak. "It's standard procedure for those exhibiting signs of psychiatric trauma, such as amnesia," he finished smugly. He was almost entirely sure that Rory was faking.

"Oh." Rory let out a little laugh. "Okay."

"Jess?" Dr. Barnes prompted. "The CAT scan?"

"I'll get right on it, sir," he said, leaving the two alone. He continued on his rounds, working his way through the department, and almost forgot about Rory until he saw Shelia, the psychiatric representative for the ER, talking at her, as Shelia was wont to do. He walked over, and gave Rory a supportive look.

"Hey, Shelia. How's it going?"

Shelia turned to Jess and smiled. "Hey, Jess. I understand you helped this fine young lady when she first came in?"

"Yep. And, actually, she and I go way back."

"Do you really?" Shelia asked, raising her eyebrows and turning back to Rory. "Did you know this, Rory?"

Rory paused for a minute, looking at Jess, and then she slowly shook her head.

Before Sheila could turn back to Jess, he spoke up. "She's my aunt's daughter. My step-cousin." He never took his eyes from Rory's face, and noticed when she raised her eyebrows. Whatever she did remember, she didn't remember Luke and Lorelai's wedding.

"Hmm," Shelia said simply. "And you don't recall Jess at all?"

Rory shook her head.

"Yet, you can recall everything from the time you regained consciousness forward."

Rory nodded.

"Yep," Sheila said. "Classic retrograde amnesia. There's not much we can do. Best case scenario, this goes away in a few hours and we discharge you. Worst case scenario, it goes away in a few months. However, you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, so we might just discharge you before it goes away. Jess here will call your apartment and see if anyone answers." Sheila smiled at Jess, who nodded and left for the front desk.

He checked her chart and found her address. His nose wrinkled involuntarily when he saw she lived in Brooklyn. He was a born and bred Manhattanite, and couldn't imagine living in another borough. But, maybe Rory liked Brooklyn, though he couldn't imagine that, either.

He dialed her number three times, each time waiting for someone to pick up the phone. Finally, on the third try, when the answering machine picked up, he left a message.

"Yeah, hi, this is Jess Mariano at St. Luke's-Roosevelt Hospital Center, Roosevelt Division in Midtown Manhattan. I'm calling because we have Rory Gilmore here in the emergency department, and it would be best if we were to release her into someone's care. Please call us when you receive this message." He gave the number and extension for the emergency department, and hung up. There was nothing to do now but wait.

--

Rory was befuddled, to put it in one word. The last time she'd seen Jess, he'd said, "I love you," and then gotten in his car and driven away. But they had been nineteen then, and it had been about six months after he'd left at the end of her senior year. He certainly no longer looked nineteen. For one thing, his hair wasn't standing straight up on top of his head. Instead it was without gel and falling around his face, just barely reaching the top of his eyebrows. He also had a slight five o'clock shadow that reminded her, somehow, of Luke.

And what was this about Lorelai being Jess' aunt? When had her mom and Luke gotten married? Last she remembered, Lorelai was secretly dating...Scooper, or some such name. And Luke was still married to that lawyer chick, and was trying to make it work. But Jess had called her his step-cousin.

Rory wondered just exactly how old she was. Let's see, in order for Jess to be a doctor, he'd have had to go to college for four years, then medical school for another four years. He looked like an intern, maybe; he was running around, doing other doctors' bidding. So that would mean--what was it on _ER_? Three years as an intern? Or just one? Or two? Whatever.

Time for calculations. If Jess had gotten his GED before he blurted out his announcement, then he could have started college during the summer, or the fall semester. That meant that he would have graduated in...2008? The year after Rory did. Maybe. So, that made him 23 when he entered medical school. Give that another four years, and that made him 27. So, at the youngest, she was 27, and at the oldest...maybe 30?

Ew. She was _30_. Talk about forgetting things. That had to be at least 11 years she was forgetting! And a whole hell of a lot can happen in 11 years. Like Luke and Lorelai getting married, and maybe having kids.

She gasped. Maybe _she_ had kids! How weird! Let's see...she probably wouldn't have gotten married until after she graduated, and if she did get married right after graduation, and then had a kid nine months later, the oldest her kid could be was seven. _Seven_! She had a seven-year-old child wandering around New York!

Well, maybe. Who knew?

Then again, her name was still Gilmore. But maybe she'd gotten divorced and changed her name back. Or maybe she'd followed in her mother's footsteps and had a kid out of wedlock. Or, maybe--and she sat up a little straighter at this thought--maybe Gilmore was her professional name. Maybe she was really well-known as Gilmore, and didn't want to change it! That had to be it. She was even more well-known than Christiane Amanpour, so she couldn't change her name. That was definitely it.

She settled back in her bed, a satisfied smile on her face.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title**: _Remembering Floyd Nightingale  
_**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.  
**Summary:** Jess is a nurse, with a doctor for a girlfriend. He's older, more mature, and has made friends with people he works with. So, the one thing to sour his life? Rory Gilmore. However, she doesn't seem to remember much, seeing as she might have amnesia.  
**A/N**: I like to procrastinate. That is not a good trait in writers, I know. But, at least, I have a full chapter all set and ready to go, as soon as it's beta-ed, and I write another chapter to follow it. So chapter four is done. But who knows when it'll be out?

Betas kick ass. Asa told me to change something, and she was totally right, and it's totally better. Lydia and Alexa just told me how amazing this chapter is. And it is. It was my favorite while writing it. 'Cause it's good. Whoo-hoo! Review again. I'm up to 24. 24! That kicks butt!

And StephieM! Stephie's back! _hugs_ You're the best reviewer, Stephie! Stick around!

Ahem. Enjoy.

--

By the time Jess' shift was over that evening, no one had called to claim Rory. He was a little worried, and actually felt sorry for her. Maybe she lived alone and didn't have anyone to check on her.

That's why, when he saw Dr. Barnes walking over to Rory, he ran over and offered to take her home. Dr. Barnes thought it over for a minute, and then said that if Jess agreed to sign the discharge papers as a family member, she could indeed be released into his care. Jess was about to sign when he realized he should ask Rory first. He left the paperwork with Dr. Barnes and asked for a few minutes alone with his cousin.

As he walked up to her he saw that she was sleeping with a satisfied smile on her face. He was almost struck dumb by her beauty. Though her hair was no longer shiny, and her almost middle aged face had a few very fine lines, he was reminded of when they were eighteen and dating. He only got to see her sleeping once, when he'd walked into her house for a date only to find her curled up on the couch, a book falling from her fingers. She looked almost exactly the same now as she did then.

Suddenly, she gave a light snort and awoke, her eyes immediately meeting Jess'. She smiled. The way he was looking at her reminded her of when they dated. She wondered if even after all these years he still loved her. She wondered if even after all these years _she_ still loved _him._

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," he said back, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I'm sorry to say, but no one's called to claim you."

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "You make it sound like I'm a lost mitten or something."

"Well, no...although the ER sometimes does seem to function as a lost and found."

She smiled, and then asked, "Does this mean that I'm going home alone?"

"No, actually," he said with a small sigh. "This means that you're coming home...with me," he forced out after a minute, gazing at the tiled floor beneath his feet, clutching Rory's chart to his chest with both arms as if it were his saving grace.

"With you?" she asked in an almost hopeful voice. "To your apartment?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, if you want to. I haven't signed the discharge papers, but I can. As family. As your cousin."

Rory nodded, slowly. "You're gonna have to explain everything."

"Granted," he agreed.

"Okay," she said, grinning.

"Alright."

He smiled at her, and for just a second, they were lost in memories--years ago for one, months ago for another, long-lost for both--of happier times, times of love and deeply hidden affection and 22.8 miles. Then they were shaken out of their reverie by a petite blonde doctor with a lilting Southern drawl.

"Mr. Mariano," Camille said, smiling. "Would you walk me out, please?"

Rory rolled her eyes at the woman's obvious attempt to get Jess alone. Did she think she was fooling anyone? Jess, at least, would certainly see through her ploy, and shoot her down, quickly and amusingly.

"Not right now, Cam," Jess said wearily, much to Rory's--and Camille's--surprise. That wasn't in the least bit sarcastic, and even sounded like he'd actually 'walked her out' before.

"But..." Camille tried to complain, but couldn't think of a way of bringing up last night without revealing to everyone in the department that there had been a 'last night out'.

Jess raised his eyebrows at his girlfriend, waiting for her to acknowledge him or blow him off. Not to his surprise, she did the latter.

"Alright. I'll see you tomorrow, Mariano." With that, she spun on her heel and exited the hospital, without as much as a backwards glance.

Rory looked at Jess with surprise. "And she is?"

"Girlfriend," he said after a minute, watching as her face fell, just a little. Man. What did she think about him? When did she think it was?

"Ready to go?" she said, breaking the silence. She smiled hopefully at him, and he smiled back.

"Almost. Let me just go sign the discharge papers and get my stuff," he said, pointing behind him.

She nodded. "I'll stay here."

He left, and she looked around for her purse. Had they ever given it back? She couldn't remember. Did she have it with her in the ambulance, or had the paramedics taken it?

She noticed a bag sitting on the ground next to her bed. Was it hers? It was large, and pink, and she didn't recall it. Or anything remotely similar. Or liking anything like that. It was very...well, pink. Wouldn't she, as a famous reporter, have something more sedate, like a black or dark blue or deep red? Ooh. Deep red. Like the jacket she'd had in high school, the one she'd worn to Fran's funeral. She'd liked that jacket. It was wool, so it was warm, and it was pretty, too. She wished she still had that jacket. She couldn't for the life of her remember where it was.

"All set," Jess said, walking back up.

He'd changed from his scrubs and was wearing his leather jacket. Rory smiled. He looked wonderful. Just like she remembered. She sat straight up and slung her legs over the side of the bed, and then stopped. She was suddenly very dizzy.

"Whoa," Jess said, reaching to help her up. He held one hand under her elbow, and slipped his other arm around her shoulders. "Careful," he said. "You've had a big day, head trauma-wise."

Rory wanted to nod, but decided to save her head the ache. "I had glass in my head," she said instead.

"I know," he said softly. "I was the one who found it, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, blushing gently. "I guess I forgot."

"I suppose that'll happen to someone with amnesia."

"I suppose," she said, her words hardly weighing more than the air around them. She was feeling very floaty all of a sudden. She was sure that if Jess were not holding her down(,) she would make it to the ceiling, and further if she were outside.

"Do you think you can handle the subway? 'Cause if you can't, we can get a cab. Though you might not want a cab either, judging by your day. We could always walk. I only live ten blocks away."

Jess' words were floating in and out of her consciousness, and he finally noticed.

"Oh, shit, Rory. You need to pay attention to me. Stay awake, Ror!" he commanded, snapping his fingers in front of her face.

The ethereal expression remained on her face, and he turned around and marched right back to the front desk, where her chart was. Reading it over quickly, he noticed the reason for her spaced-out look--she was on medication.

Not wanting to have to watch her every step home while on the subway or walking, and trying to avoid putting her back into a cab, lest she have any post-traumatic stress, he grabbed the phone and dialed one of the only two numbers he knew by heart.

"Can you come to the hospital and drive me home?" he asked when Ben answered.

Ben, obviously having spent the day sleeping off his hangover, groggily answered in the affirmative and even promised to bring the four-door without an explanation.

Jess slipped his arms around Rory again, and finally walked her out of the hospital, into the cool air. She breathed deeply as a breeze blew up, and smiled. He shook his head. Obviously the medication was making her high. Perhaps she hadn't even needed it—that wasn't too strange a suggestion, given that she'd pretended not to know him and then, later, bring up an old argument from when they'd dated. Obviously she knew him. He was almost entirely sure she was faking, and he was going to make her tell him why.

--

Rory climbed into the back of Dr. Sugarman's dark green Porsche 911 Carrera Cabriolet and lay on the light brown seats. They were so soft; it felt as if she were laying on a cloud. She smiled serenely as she lay there, staring straight up into where the stars would be, were the lights of the city not so bright.

She thought she heard Dr. Sugarman and Jess talking about her, and Jess had his slightly annoyed/slightly distressed voice going on. She idly wondered what he was distressed about. Maybe it was because she was floating, floating away into the dark night sky, with no stars to catch her.

Would Jess miss her if she floated away? Maybe. He really did seem to care about herand he'd smiled at her more in one day than he'd ever smiled before. Wasn't it amazing? Jess was smiling at her. She'd always loved his smile, mainly because it was so hard to earn, but when she saw it, it was well worth the wait. It was better than his smirk, because that was almost always there. His smile, though, always seemed to be only for her. It was a little lopsided, which she adored. Sometimes he showed just a tiny bit of teeth, and that really sent her over the edge.

"Jess Mariano is very sexy," she said in her head, and giggled. It was true.

Jess glanced back at her, a half-worried, half-amused look on his face. She waved, trying to focus on his face. He turned back around before he fully came into view, though. She sighed.

Would he be mad when he learned she'd lied? She hoped not. She hadn't meant to lie. She'd just heard Jess' tone of voice when he'd seen her. "What'd you do?" he'd asked, sounding like it was only the latest in a long line of--what was the word?--bad things she'd done. Mishaps? Would that fit?

Plus, she'd been worried anyway. Who heard of someone with amnesia who only forgot _some_ stuff? No one. No one had. It was just...weird. She'd worried that she'd get in trouble for forgetting some things and remembering others. Perhaps she'd slipped back into another life--maybe he'd time-traveled. Maybe she was Jennifer Garner in _13 Going On 30_.

That was just too absurd to tell anyone. "I went to sleep in my mom's house after the Firelight Festival and woke up in an ambulance with warm, sticky blood down the side of my face. And I think maybe someone sprinkled fairy dust on me, because first I heard Jess say, 'I love you', and then I woke up and I wasn't nineteen anymore."

So she'd lied. So what? She was scared, scared that perhaps somehow she had done something that had caused this, and Jess wouldn't love her anymore, and her mother would be mad at her. Because, obviously, she'd gone to New York to see Jess again, and she could only assume that her mother didn't know.

Wait--did Jess live in New York? She thought she remembered him living in California. Or maybe he was back from California. What had been in California in the first place?

She sighed, and changed positions in the seat so she was no longer facing the sky, but the back of the seat in front of her. She closed her eyes and was asleep within seconds.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: **_Remembering Floyd Nightingale  
_**Disclaimer: **Don't own nothin'.  
**Summary: **Jess is a nurse, with a doctor for a girlfriend. He's older, more mature, and has made friends with people he works with. So, the one thing to sour his life? Rory Gilmore. However, she doesn't seem to remember much, as she might have amnesia.  
**A/N: **Once again, thanks to my kick-ass betas. Sorry it's taken so ultra long for this to come out. I've had computer trouble, writing trouble, etc. But you guys kicked me up to 36 reviews. And that's why you are _awesome_. Enjoy, and review.

--

Jess pushed his apartment door open and threw his keys on an end table, before returning his hand to Rory's arm.

He looked at Ben, on the other side of her, and said, "Thanks for doing this. I really appreciate it."

"No prob," Ben said easily. "Alice was nagging at me for coming home drunk again, and my shift starts in two hours anyway."

"Well, still. Thanks."

They led Rory to Jess' bed, and laid her down. She curled up around a pillow, muttered, "Jess Mariano is very sexy," again, and then closed her eyes. Ben glanced at Jess, but he gestured for them to stay quiet, and led the other man out of the room.

Ben burst out laughing as Jess closed the door. "How many times has she said that now?"

"Just the two," Jess said, sounding much less amused than Ben. He ran his hands through his hair, staring at his closed door. "I'm worried about her, man."

"Oh, don't be," Ben said, waving a hand. "She's just got a touch of retrograde amnesia. I don't even think she's got a concussion. Although...I would check her regularly. Just to be sure."

"Yeah," Jess nodded. "I was planning on doing that, even before I realized the medication was making her high."

"Why is that, anyway?" Ben asked, looking curiously at Jess. "That medicine is what we give every amnesiac patient. Granted, we don't get a lot of them, but still."

"I don't know," Jess said vaguely, ignoring his friend's gaze. "Maybe her wound's worse than we thought."

"Yeah, maybe," Ben said. "Whatever, man. Just keep an eye on her and call me if she gets worse. I'd stay for a bite to eat, but I can't stand your food."

Jess grinned. "Get outta here."

"Will do."

"Thanks again," Jess called as the door shut behind Ben. He sighed, and walked into the study. Another restless night, he supposed. He picked a random book from a random shelf and collapsed on the futon.

He was forty pages into _Jitterbug Perfume_ when the door to the study creaked open. He lowered the book onto his chest and smiled.

"Hey."

"Hi," she said softly, walking into the room. She looked around for a place to sit, and he sat up, making room for her on the futon. She gave him a small, grateful smile and settled next to him.

"Have a good nap?" he asked.

"I feel a little better." She nodded. "But I'm still confused."

"Me, too."

He watched as small wrinkles popped out over her brow. "What are you confused about?"

"What you know. Why you're pretending to have amnesia. Why you're wearing that ridiculous outfit."

She smiled. "I'll have you know that this sweater reminds me of one I had my sophomore year in high school. Mom called it a muumuu."

"See? That's what I'm talking about. You can remember random things like that, but you don't remember that Luke and Lorelai are married?"

She shook her head. "The last I remember, Mom was dating Scooper."

"Scooper?" Jess let out a short laugh.

"Yeah, I dunno. It was some childhood name. He's my grandfather's business partner, and he knows my parents from summer camp or something."

"Well, it's been Luke and Lorelai for a while now." Jess put his hands behind his head and stretched his legs out in front of him. "I think they started dating at my mom's wedding, which was... God, it's almost twelve years ago." He shook his head. "Somehow, my insane step-father is actually good for her. You know, they've got a kid."

"Really?" she asked. She pulled her legs onto the futon and curled them around her. "How old?"

"Well, Ben's going to be 8 in June, and his cousins Leo and Loeb will be 6."

Her mouth dropped open, and then she grinned. "No! Really? Mom had twins?"

He nodded. "Two years to the day after they got married."

She did a little dance in her seat, and clapped her hands. "Ha. That's awesome. I hope I'm close to them."

That was when Jess' face dropped. She noticed and frowned.

"What is it?"

"Well," he started, "you see, you...haven't really been close to your Mom for a while now. And...you've hardly talked for about the past ten years."

She stared at him for a minute, and then laughed. "God!" she said, shoving him gently. "That's so mean to say. Like my mom and I would ever not talk."

He kept his eyes on her, not changing his expression, and eventually she sagged against the futon, defeated.

"That's ridiculous," she said, her voice smaller. "What happened? Do you know?"

"I only know what Luke knows, and he only knows what your mom's told him. But, what I do know is, when they really got together, the end of your first year in college, you guys had a fight and didn't talk for three months."

"Do you know what the fight was about?" she interrupted.

He sighed. "Yes. Do you really want to know?"

She nodded without hesitation.

"Okay, then. You had sex with Dean."

Her mouth dropped open, and she stared, shocked, for a minute. When she regained the ability to speak, she said, "Ew! Dean? But he's married!"

Jess nodded.

"Man. Is it all this bad?"

Jess hesitated, then nodded.

She sighed. "Give me that pillow," she commanded, pointing to Jess' pillow from the night before, which was sitting on the floor. He handed it to her, and she put it behind her, before stretching out on the futon and putting her legs in Jess' lap. She got settled, closed her eyes, and said, "Okay. Give it to me straight."

"Alright. Here goes. From what I've heard, eventually you and your mom made up, and the rest of the year was good. Of course, then you stole a yacht with your rich boyfriend and dropped out of Yale."

She snorted. "Okay, now you're just making this up," she said, looking at Jess.

He shook his head slowly, and she sighed, closing her eyes again. "I must have been mental."

"Agreed."

"Hey! I'd hit you with this pillow, but it's really comfortable."

He smirked. "Can I continue?"

"Of course. Carry on," she said, waving a hand.

"Okay, so, you dropped out of Yale and didn't speak to your mother for months. Eventually you got a little closer, but not near as close as before."

"Did I ever go back to Yale?"

"Yep. Graduated, too."

"Good," she said softly.

"Anyway, so after you graduated, you got engaged to, as your mother refers to him, Richie Rich. And she stopped talking to you."

"Just because of that?"

"Well, you'd had trouble because of Richie. He was the guy you stole the yacht with."

"Oh."

"But your mom couldn't stay mad at you for long, and so she sent you a birthday card. And you sent her a wedding invitation, but they didn't go. And then you started corresponding somewhat regularly, but you haven't had face time in years."

"This is ridiculous," Rory said, sitting up but keeping her legs on Jess. "I can't believe this. I'm going to call her." She stood and moved to leave the room, but Jess grabbed her arm.

"Wait," he said softly. "At least hold off 'til tomorrow. I don't think the first time you speak in years should be half past midnight."

The determined look on her face melted away and she sank back onto the futon. "I hate this."

"To be honest with you, I'm pretty sure Lorelai hates it too. But she loves her sleep. And you need sleep." Jess stood up and held out a hand for Rory. "Come on. Let's get you to bed."

She placed her hand in his and allowed him to pull her up, but before he could lead her back to his room, she said, "Actually, I'm starving. Do you have any food?"

He grinned. "I was wondering how long it would take for you to ask that. Come on."

He led her to the dining part of the living room and gestured for her to sit in the chair closest to the kitchen door. She obliged, and he disappeared into the other room. She heard him opening and closing cabinets and rummaging through what sounded like plastic bags.

"Okay, I've got apples, a few satsumas--which I definitely recommend--and stuff to make salads," he called while still rummaging.

She made a face, and then called back, "Anything not...grown? I mean, I'm not just a fruit and vegetable kinda girl, you know."

"Yup, I remember." Jess appeared in the doorway and leaned against the jamb. "So, not in the way of grown things, I've got some salmon with a garlic butter rub I cooked last night."

She struggled not to make a face, and asked, "Don't you have like a hamburger or some fries or Red Vines or _something_?"

He laughed. "I don't eat red meat, I eat carbs very sparingly, and I never liked Red Vines; that was you."

"Oh." She blushed. "I guess I'll take a salad and a satsuma?"

He nodded. "Excellent choice." He re-entered the kitchen, and this time she stood up and followed him. It was a tiny hole of a room, just barely enough space for a dishwasher, refrigerator, stove, and sink. She was tempted to sit on one of the counters, but knew that she'd be hunched over because of the cabinets. Instead she leaned against the doorjamb, much as he had a minute ago.

"What a strange day," she said softly, watching as Jess tossed together a salad.

He looked up and smiled at her. "What was yesterday like?"

"Well, it was the firelight festival. And Mom and I were starting our attack of all of the food booths, and then suddenly I spotted you. Again. And you'd been running away from me all day, so I decided it was my turn. And that's what I yelled as I started sprinting in the opposite direction. And you chased after me." She laughed. "It's so strange for me to be running. I don't run. And it reminded me of that time in my senior year, right before we started dating, and that guy's lawn exploded on me and I was running through town soaking wet, and you chased me down. You made me tell you what had happened, and even though I was looking for Dean, you came and fixed the sprinklers. And then when Dean said he was coming, you understood and turned them back on and left me soaking wet, waiting for him." She smiled, and caught his eyes. "Remember that?"

He didn't smile, but nodded solemnly. "I remember."

"Anyway, so last night, I started running, and eventually I stopped running or you caught up to me, and I rambled about what you could have to say to me, and that I'd been waiting for this for forever, and you just said, simply, 'I love you', and that was it. You got into your car and you left, and...and I was devastated." Her smile faded and her far-away look disappeared, and Rory looked directly into Jess' eyes. "Why, Jess? Why'd you leave?"

He sighed, and dropped his gaze from hers. "Let's go into the other room," he said, reaching a hand and touching her shoulder gently.

She shook his hand off and stayed rooted to where she was. "No. I wanna know right now. Why did you say that and then leave? Why didn't you wait? Give me a chance to yell at you, or say it back, or anything?" She was practically wailing now, and she definitely had tears in her eyes. "Jess?" she said after a minute of silence.

"Because I was scared shitless, okay?" he yelled suddenly. "I was madly in love with you, and I just knew that you were still pissed at me for leaving, and I was afraid you'd laugh at me, and yell at me and break my heart like I broke yours! And then you did! I changed, and I came back again and I wanted you to know, _needed_ you to know, and then you yelled at me and slept with Dean!"

She cringed. "Did I at least say goodbye?"

"No," he spat bitterly. "You said no, and that's all I remember."

"Why are you bitter?" she asked, amazed. "How can you be bitter? You were _brutal_ to me! Every time I saw you! I fell fast, I fell hard, and you were never there to catch me!"

"Why do you get to be bitter? What gives you the right? I changed, goddammit! I got a job and I buckled down and I went back to school and _made_ something of myself. And every time I came back to tell you this, you blew me off for someone even worse for you than me! So once again I ask, why do you get to be the bitter one?"

"Why do you get to be the stable one?" she shot back. "I'm stable. That's what defines me. My mother's flighty and my father's never there and I'm stable. I worked my ass off in high school, made it into an Ivy League school, and graduated from said Ivy League school. Hell, I started at Chilton my sophomore year and worked my way up past Paris to be the valedictorian. So I'm the stable one. That's my role, dammit! Mine!"

"Well, too goddamn bad, Rory. I'm the stable one now." He lifted his arms in a mock-apologetic shrug. "Get the hell over it."

She was flustered for a moment, and then shot back, "No!"

"No?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

For half a second, she was conflicted about what to do next. He had her backed into a corner, and she felt childish and discombobulated. She struggled internally for a second, and then closed the two feet between them with one step and one kiss.

He didn't kiss back, like she'd thought he would, and instead fought back. He finally succeeded in pushing her away, and he kept his hand on her arm as he said, "Stop it!"

"Why?" she asked defiantly.

He screwed up his face, and then pulled her towards him and kissed her. The kiss went from angry to fervent, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back. He relaxed the hand still clenched tightly around her arm, and started rubbing her back. She moaned, and the noise seemed to pull him from his reverie. With slight reluctance, he pulled away from her.

"I'm not so hungry anymore," she said after she got her breath back, and he smiled slightly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: **_Remembering Floyd Nightingale  
_**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.  
**Summary: **Jess is a nurse, with a doctor for a girlfriend. He's older, more mature, and has made friends with the people he works with. So, the one thing to sour his life? Rory Gilmore. However, she doesn't seem to remember much, as she might have amnesia.  
**A/N: **Oh my LORD. You guys! _Fifty _reviews for four chapters? That is crazy amazing! Thank you guys so much!

Sorry for the extra-long wait. What can I say? Writer's block and life got in the way. But I'm officially a high-school graduate!

Okay, so, betas are my favorite thing ever, especially Asa and Lydia. They are my life-savers, and just plain awesome on top of that.

The next chapter is already written, and _awesome_ in my opinion, so I just need to write chapter 7 before I can get it out. And 7 is my lucky number. So hopefully that one will just flow.

Enjoy!

--

Jess was tired, and Rory felt badly for yelling at him and then making out with him, so she graciously invited him to use his own bed and took up his spot on the futon. He tried to protest, but it was half-hearted, and she was thrilled about being in a room with so many books, so she waved him to bed.

She was browsing through the books when she realized that one, a very short, small one, boasted a familiar name. Surprised, she pulled it carefully from the shelf, as if it were going to go up in smoke if she handled it too roughly. Somehow, it remained in her hands even as she walked from the bookcase to the futon. She sat down carefully, never changing her position, allowing herself to stare at the cover without pause.

The Subsect, written by Jess Mariano. The Subsect, written by Jess Mariano. The Subsect, written by Jess Mariano.

It was his. He'd written it. He'd finally gotten himself together and sat down and wrote a book. A book! He was a writer, not a doctor. Writers were so much better. She could identify with writers.

She opened the book carefully, cracking the binding. Was it new? She checked the copyright date. 2005, re-issued 2006, 2007. It had been re-issued? Had it been that successful?

Suddenly, she was giddy. She had to fight the urge to run into his room and jump on his prone form and scream, "You wrote a book!" She knew that the second she saw him in the morning, she'd do just that, but for now, she should let him sleep.

She curled up and began to read.

--

She was halfway through The Subsect for the third time when she heard Jess' alarm go off in his room. She paused in her reading and listened for signs that he was awake, but there was no groan, no slapping of the clock. Instead, the beeping ended suddenly, to be replaced with what sounded like CNN. Unable to contain her excitement--for the book, for the fact she might be on CNN, for the fact that she had kissed Jess last night--any longer, she jumped from the futon and raced into Jess' room.

Though physically she was 31, and she thought she was 19, she acted as if she were five when she leapt onto Jess' bed and jumped up and down a few times.

"Holy shit," he groaned, sitting straight up. "What, did you lose a few years mentally during the night? Jesus Christ. What an awakening," he complained.

She ignored him and continued jumping up and down lightly, the huge grin still on her face. "You wrote a book!" she exclaimed after a minute.

He groaned again, this time of embarrassment, and covered his face with his hands. "I can't believe you found that."

She nodded enthusiastically. "And I read it. Three times."

He looked up at her and raised his eyebrows. "Three times?"

She nodded again. "And I made notes," she said, flipping through the pages and showing Jess her neatly scribbled notes in the margins. She leaned back on her heels and looked at Jess seriously. "It was about us, wasn't it." She stated, rather than asked, but she waited for an answer, so Jess nodded. She imitated his nod, and then said, "I didn't get it the first time I read it. The first time I was just caught up in the story. But the second time I was looking through for anything I might have missed, and it seemed like maybe it was about us. And then I read it again, and I knew."

He looked at her seriously for a minute, and then turned back to the TV. "You need clothes. So I was thinking we could stop at your apartment and you could pick up some stuff."

She ignored his words, keeping her eyes on his, though they were turned from her. "Jess?" she asked softly after another minute.

"Drop it, Rory," he said so softly she almost thought she imagined it. There was a touch of weariness in his voice too, making her think that they'd already been over this topic numerous times, before she forgot him.

She dropped it, choosing instead to mimic his position on the bed, her eyes turned toward the TV. "Okay," she said, watching Soledad O'Brien (could that woman still be on the air?). "We'll stop by my apartment."

He said nothing, only moved his hand so that it covered hers lightly. She didn't acknowledge the touch out loud, only grinned at the feel of his hand on hers.

--

He would be missing work to walk her around her own apartment, and she wouldn't allow that. Instead, she made him take her there on the subway, so she would know exactly which trains to take. At 19, she'd been to New York two or three times, and had only been on the subway once. She made him walk her to her apartment, and once she got there, she handed him a pen and paper from her monstrously pink purse and made him write down the return instructions. As he did so, she tried the eight different keys on her key ring to find one that fit into her apartment door. She found the correct key on the seventh try, which was good because she was about to get desperate and use the key she knew was for her mother's house.

"I'm in," she said triumphantly. Jess didn't look up from his writing against the wall, only nodded slightly. Rory left him there, entering the apartment.

Nothing looked familiar. She was almost disappointed. She'd wondered if her memory would flood back all at once, or a little at a time. Now she wondered if it'd flood back at all.

She wandered through the large living room, taking in the pictures on the wall, the sleeper sofa, the medium sized TV and large bookshelves.

She stopped in front of a wall in the hallway, covered with snapshots. She tried to find familiar faces mixed in with the unfamiliar, wondering who she kept up with. She found a picture of her and Paris, the other girl looking uncharacteristically giddy. Rory took in the rest of the picture and realized Paris was in a long white gown, while Rory was in a sedate looking bridesmaid's dress. The idea of Paris married and happy was a little strange to process, but it reminded Rory of the small diamond on her finger, the one she'd looked at last night. She wondered if it was from Richie Rich, though it was so small she didn't think so.

She found a picture of Lane and the band, dressed up but as goofy as usual. They all had a slight sheen of sweat, meaning they'd just performed, and Lane was holding a Grammy so tightly her fingers were white. Gil had his arm around what Rory could only assume was his wife, Zach had his arm around two girls, Brian had his arm around what looked like his mother, and--Rory gasped and smiled--Dave had his arm around Lane. A happy ending. She'd always known that Dave would come back for Lane.

There was a picture of high school graduation, Paris and Rory looking happy standing next to each other, no diplomas yet, no cliché arms slung around each other either. There was another picture of what looked like Yale graduation, this time with diplomas, arms slung around each other, and boyfriends standing in the back. Rory took in the shorter black-haired boy and the taller blonde boy, but couldn't make out who belonged to whom.

There was a Christmas card picture of Luke and Lorelai, smiling at the camera, touching each other in small ways--his hand at the small of her back, her hand resting lightly on his stomach. They had two small boys in front of them, both brunettes, both blue-eyed, with large mischievous grins and a look of untidiness even in their suits. Rory took these to be her half-brothers.

Not too far from them was a small picture of her father in a very stiff looking portrait with what must be Georgia--she had a very Sherry look about her--and an unknown woman, some blonde with a large smile, crinkly eyes, and overpowering teeth. Rory idly wondered what had happened to Sherry, but she didn't particularly care.

"Hey," Jess said from behind, startling her. She spun around to face him, and smiled.

"Hey. You leaving?" she asked, taking in his pose. He had his hands shoved into his pockets, and his arms straight. He looked as if he were in the middle of a shrug, and she could almost hear him say, "Well. What is much?" in that deep, quiet voice of his.

He nodded, looking worried about leaving her. "I left the instructions on the end table next to the door. If you get lost, I wrote my address down there, so you can always just take a taxi."

She nodded. "Right. Taxi. Got it."

He continued without acknowledging she'd spoken. "But, I get that you might not want to take one, given your last experience..." He trailed off and sighed. "Look, I'll just give you Ben's--Dr. Sugarman's--number. He'll pick you up, and he'll even use the Porsche. Forget about the subway, or a taxi."

She didn't say anything, just waited for the inevitable.

He groaned. "Oh. Forget it. You can come to work with me and sit in the lounge. Or I can just call in sick today. You're my cousin, you had a head injury. They'll be fine with that, I'm sure they will. Yeah. Yeah, that's fine."

He smiled, and she grinned. "You're rambling."

He frowned and shook his head. "No, I'm not. I don't ramble. You ramble. Your mother rambles. I don't ramble."

She smiled. "I think it's cute." She started leading him to the door. "Don't worry about a thing. Go to work, fix people up, make people feel better. Just don't find another step-cousin; I don't think I could take it." She opened the door and he stepped through with only a gentle push, and then turned to look at her.

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Thank you. I'll see you later."

He nodded dumbly, and then walked off. He returned a few seconds later, walking in the other direction. He pointed, and she smiled, watching until he got in the elevator. Then she promptly walked into her apartment and searched for a phone. She eventually found the base tucked into a corner of the kitchen counter. Amazingly, it held the receiver.

She wasn't sure what she was doing; as a matter of fact, she had no clue. But she picked up the cordless phone, pressed redial, and held it to her ear. It rang, and then a man's voice came over the line.

"Hey, babe." _Success!_

"Logan?" she asked timidly, though she was almost entirely sure this was _not_ him.

He sighed. "No, baby, it's Paul. Paul Keith, your fiancé. Are you drunk again? It seems really early. It's not even ten here yet."

She checked the clock; almost eleven. So he was in the Central Time Zone, huh? She wondered where.

"No, I'm not drunk," she said in response to his question. "I just had a head injury yesterday, and I can't remember much. Where are you, anyway?"

"My house in Evanston. Baby, what are you talking about? You got a head injury yesterday? How?"

"Oh, um, I think I was in a car crash. A cab. From Brooklyn to somewhere in Midtown."

"Oh, baby, I'm so sorry. Right after I got in the cab to the airport? Weren't you supposed to stop by Denise's office or something?"

She sighed. Did he not understand amnesia? "I don't know, Paul. I don't remember anything. I've got retrograde amnesia or something; I mean, I remember everything that happened after the crash, and I remember my mother and Jess and part of my first year of college, but everything else is a blur."

"Well, baby, are you still coming to join me out here tonight?"

"Why do you keep calling me baby? Are you incapable of using my name? And, no, I'm not coming to join you out there tonight. I hardly know where I am right now. I'm not going to go traipse around O'Hare airport and Chicago to try to find someplace and some person I don't know."

He sighed. "Okay, let me get this straight: You're staying in New York because you have selective amnesia? What?"

"Yes! Finally, we have understanding!" She raised her hands in what she would have considered the touchdown position if she followed sports, but since she didn't she considered it the success symbol.

"Alright, fine, babe, whatever. But the engagement party's in two weeks, and if you don't want my mother to plan the whole thing, you better get out here."

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Rory was bored with the conversation. This was the guy she was supposedly marrying, but his constant 'baby's grated on her nerves, he seemed way too dumb for her, and on top of all that, his voice could rival Ben Stein's for monotonous quality.

"Okay. Love ya, babe."

"Yeah, bye." Rory quickly pressed the end button and replaced the receiver on the base. She thought about the conversation and shivered. Had she changed so much in twelve years? Her fiancé said, "Love ya, babe." Who said that? Quickly, she re-entered the living room and approached the stereo she'd seen earlier. She prayed she still had impeccable taste in music and pressed play.

_"I was chillin' in the shine of my light night dial_

_Doin' everything that my radio advised..._

_...They're sayin' things that I can hardly believe_

_They really think we're gettin' out of control."_

Ah, Elvis. And the right Elvis, the geeky one with glasses from the 80s.

She moved to the bookshelf and pulled out a photo album, and then sat on the couch and started to flip through it.

--

"Wait, let me get this straight," Ben said, laughing. He was heading home from his shift and had met Jess at the door, and asked how his night had been. "Okay, so, after I left, you yelled at and then made out with an amnesiac patient? Who's also your cousin?"

"Step-cousin," Jess said pointedly. "And my ex-girlfriend, and she remembers everything up to a certain point. It's not like I saw my confused cousin and decided to make out with her."

Ben shook his head, still laughing. "Still, dude. Funny."

Jess scowled and half-shoved the other man. "Go home, Sugarman."

The other man left, but his words stayed with Jess all day. He had yelled at and then made out with Rory last night, and she'd been in a fragile state of mind...not to mention, Jess still had a girlfriend, and he was entirely sure Rory had a fiancé.

Jess spent the day avoiding Camille, who was, for once, trying to track him down. She eventually cornered him in the lounge, but he was able to pull out his cell phone and dial the first number that came to him.

"Hello?"

He really started to panic when he heard his uncle's voice on the other end of the line.

"Uh, hey, Luke," Jess said, his eyes fixed on Camille. The woman raised her eyebrows, but went about getting her coffee and then waved and left.

"Jess? Why are you calling?" Luke asked. "You just called two days ago. Something happen?"

"Uh, no," Jess said, watching Cam's back fade into the crowd of people. "Oh, actually, yes. Guess who showed up here yesterday with a head injury and retrograde amnesia?"

"I don't know, Jess. Who showed up there yesterday with a head injury and retrograde amnesia?" There was a noise in the background, and Luke said, "Wait. Lorelai guessed Nathan Lane. And--what? Lorelai, what are you asking?" Luke spoke directly into the phone, speaking to Lorelai. "No, I don't think so. I don't think that happens with retrograde amnesia. Because I don't! Fine, I'll ask. Is he muttering about how he should be Sarah-Jessica Parker? Jess?"

"Hmm? Oh, you're talking to me now?"

"Yeah. It's Lorelai's question."

"I figured. Um, no. He's not, because he didn't show up here yesterday."

"Oh. Well, who did?"

"Rory."

There was stunned silence on the other end of the line. After a minute Luke said, "Her last address said Brooklyn."

"She still lives in Brooklyn," Jess said, "but she was in a car crash in midtown yesterday morning. She remembers everything up to the Firelight Festival her freshman year of college, and then everything after the crash. Nothing in between."

"Huh," was all his uncle said.

"And she and I talked last night, and this morning, and I think we're on our way to becoming friends again," Jess continued. "She's staying with me because you need to keep an eye on people with head injuries, and no one answered at her apartment. I was a little surprised, actually, because she's wearing a diamond engagement ring, so I figured she might be living with the guy. But, anyway. I think we'll be friends."

"Well...that's great, Jess," Luke said, for lack of anything better. "You were always better friends, anyway." There was another noise in the background, and then Luke started talking to Lorelai again. "No, it wasn't Nathan Lane. Or S-J P, whoever that is. No, I don't really care. It was," Luke sighed. "It was Rory." There was a short silence, and then the phone was snatched from Luke's hands.

"Run!" Lorelai screamed. "Get away from her. Don't let her corrupt you! You're the only good one we've got left, Jess. Don't let her change you. She'll suck you into her world. Her Richie Rich world," she ended, the last few words dripping in disdain. "She's like my mother," Lorelai added after a minute.

"She's really not that bad, Lorelai," Jess said. "She seems to have changed; besides, she doesn't remember anything past the Firelight Festival of her freshman year of college. She thinks she's 19, and you're dating Scooper or somebody. And she didn't know that she slept with Dean, or who Logan is, or anything."

"Once Emily Gilmore, always Emily Gilmore," Lorelai said.

"She thinks the night before last was the night I told her I loved her. Before you and Luke, before her and Logan, before the book, even before my mom and TJ. She thinks she's nineteen, and I ran away less than a year ago."

Lorelai gasped. "It's _13 Going on 30_!"

Jess nodded. "She muttered something about that last night. But, no, it's just a case of retrograde amnesia. Granted, it's a little different than other cases, 'cause she can remember up to 19, but basically it's retrograde."

"Huh. So...she's 19?"

"Mentally, yes."

There was silence for a moment, and then Lorelai yelled, "Have her call me!"

"I will, I promise."

"Tonight!"

"Sure, tonight. She didn't call you last night because it was so late."

"Good. Wow. Thanks so much, Jess."

"Anytime, Lorelai."

Both hung up, and Jess sighed, took a moment to collect himself, and then went on with his day.


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: **_Remembering Floyd Nightingale  
_**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Still.  
**Summary: **Jess is a nurse, with a doctor for a girlfriend. He's older, more mature, and has made friends with the people he works with. So, the one thing to sour his life? Rory Gilmore. However, she doesn't seem to remember much, as she might have amnesia.  
**A/N: **I am so sorry it has taken me so freakin' long to get this out. I had writer's block like _crazy_, but have since gotten over it. I wrote two more chapters and sent them to betas, so hopefully it won't be too long 'til you guys get more. And there are only a few more chapters left!

Special thanks go to Asa, the most kick-ass betas of all kick-ass betas.

----

When she'd tired of flipping through the photo albums that seemed to belong to someone else she'd moved on to her bedroom and begun flipping through her clothes. They were all vaguely similar to what she was wearing, but she was able to pull out a decent long sleeved shirt and some jeans. After the bedroom she headed for the kitchen, where she uncovered a large bag of Red Vines. She carried the Red Vines with her as she searched through the bookcases. It was there she made her most startling discoveries.

Her first discovery was that she had written a book. And it wasn't a hard hitting political piece about the terrors of life in a third world country, or the corrupt politics invading the White House, or _My Life in Christiane Amanpour's Shadow: The Rory Gilmore Story_. It was a novella about a poetess living in a large city with no inspiration who moves back to her small hometown in disgrace, only to discover that's where her inspiration was all along. It was titled, simply, _Star_. The subtitle on the title page said, "A Book of Longing, based on a true story."

Her second discovery was that Paris had written articles in a score of medical journals, and Rory had them all. They circled closer and closer to a cure for cancer, and the last article cited Paris as a Nobel Prize winner in Chemistry.

Her third discovery was that she owned all three copies of Jess' book. This in itself wasn't as surprising as the fact that the margins of the books were filled with notes in her own precise handwriting.

She moved on after this last discovery, deciding that any other surprises the bookcase might hold were probably too much for her. Instead, she made her way over to her CDs, where she noticed that Lane's band had made a total of seven CDs. She checked the liner notes of each and every one, and discovered that Lane had been true to her word: in the acknowledgements, just under "Jesus, our Lord and Savior", was "Lorelai and Rory Gilmore, for being best friends and cleaning out their garage just to let a crazy unnamed band practice."

After that, she searched through her DVDs to discover that Dave had become a TV star, and she owned all 5 seasons of his show. The show looked very teenage soap opera, but they were all signed, so she let it go.

When she'd finished exploring the apartment, still not closer to remembering her 31-year-old life, she decided to leave. She threw her keys into her enormous purse, grabbed the bag of Red Vines, and left.

--

"Jess, Jess!"

Jess turned around to see Charlie, a third-year medical student, rushing up to him.

"What's up, kid?" Jess asked.

"You said you'd help me," Charlie said nervously, rubbing his right thumb over a scar on the back of his left wrist, a move he always performed when nervous.

"Okay. You got time right now?"

Charlie nodded emphatically, and Jess led him into the lounge.

"Now that we're alone...what were you thinking of saying?"

All the color drained from Charlie's face, and he mumbled towards the floor, "I dunno. Something like, 'I've known you for a long time. And I've loved you for a long time. And you love me. Will you marry me?'"

Jess made a "so-so" move with his hand, and then said, "Sometimes the simplest things are the best. This, apparently, is not one of those times."

Charlie's face dropped.

"How are you giving her the ring?"

"I figured I'd go old school, you know? Drop on one knee?" Charlie looked nervously at Jess, who shook his head.

"First of all, never say 'old school'. Just...don't. Second of all, if you're going to do the simple one knee thing, perhaps you do need a simple speech. But a better speech."

The other man nodded, waiting for Jess' words of wisdom.

"Okay. Um, how 'bout...'We've known each other for years, and you've enriched my life with your mere presence. Now, I think we should go one step further, and become husband and wife.'"

A smile slowly spread over Charlie's face, and he said, "Just the perfect amount of bullshit to make it real. I think I'll use that. Wow! How do you do it?"

Jess shrugged. "I've always had a gift for bullshit."

The door to the lounge suddenly opened, and Dr. Hartman walked in. As she poured herself a cup of coffee, she said, "That cute girl you took home yesterday is harassing reception, Jess. You might want to go straighten that out."

"What the hell is she doing here?" Jess murmured. "You okay now, Charlie?" The younger man nodded, and Jess took off. As the door to the lounge closed behind him, he could hear Charlie saying, "Um, Leslie? We've known each other for years..."

--

"Dr. Mariano. He was here yesterday!"

"I'm very sorry, ma'am, but there's no Dr. Mariano at this hospital. Perhaps there's one at the St. Luke's Division. It's about three miles up Tenth Avenue, although it turns into Amsterdam Avenue between 56th and 57th Streets. It's next to Columbia University, on the corner of 115th."

Rory groaned and touched her forehead. She was, unfortunately, getting a headache, and it was going to be a killer. She _knew_ this was the right place. She'd been here the night before. She recognized some of the people, too. "There's Dr. Barnes!" she exclaimed. "He treated me last night, too! He'll know Dr. Mariano." She finished with a slight glare at the receptionist, though she knew he had tried his best. She was about to call the doctor's name when Jess suddenly appeared, shooting a wan smile at the receptionist and sliding one hand under Rory's elbow.

"Jess!" she exclaimed.

"Sorry, Stephen."

"'S okay," Stephen said, holding up his hands in a 'don't worry about it' gesture. "She's a little crazy, but she's better than most."

"Hey! I resent that!" Rory said, putting her hands on her hips--though Jess still held tightly onto her right elbow.

"Oh, it's true," Jess said, raising his eyebrows at his mad ex-girlfriend.

"But he told me you didn't work here!"

"No, ma'am, I said there was no _doctor_ named Mariano here. I actually forgot about Jess' last name."

"Wait. You're not a doctor?"

Jess shook his head.

"If you're not a doctor, then what...are you a medical student?"

"No, Rory. I'm a nurse."

Her confused face melted away, and a smile slowly spread. "You...became...a nurse?" She started giggling, and then chuckling. Within a few moments, she was keeled over (as best she could, with Jess still clutching her arm) and holding her stomach, which was aching from laughter. "Omigod," she said in between gasps for breath. "I'm think...I'm going...to die from...laughter."

Jess sighed, and informed her, "You can't die from laughter."

"How do you know? You're only a nurse!" she shot at him, a wide grin on her face. "Oh, God," she said, chortling a little. "Ooh! Ooh! Do you wear the little white dresses? I bet you do!" Rory had her eyes closed and was hopping up and down laughing now, completely missing the exasperated looks Jess was giving Stephen.

"No, I don't wear--" Jess tried to say, but Rory was ignoring him, and couldn't hear him over her guffawing anyway.

"I bet you at least wear those little white hats with the red crosses on them." Rory opened her eyes and grinned at Jess, and then had to turn away again as she imagined what she was saying. "Oh, God! The mental image!" she said in a high pitched voice, almost entirely out of breath. She started another round of laughter, which certainly didn't stop when Jess merely tightened his hold on her and pulled her into the lounge. He allowed her to collapse on the couch, where she preceded to curl over the arm, trying to let the laughter subside.

Jess turned away from her, facing the door. God, she was stressful. Who knew a 31-year-old partly amnesiac ex-girlfriend could be so exhausting? He rubbed his hands once over his face, leaving them to rest over his mouth. He looked out of the window in the door and saw Camille. She gestured for him, and he glanced quickly at Rory. She was still curled on the couch, laughing hysterically, so he edged out of the room.

"Come here. We need to talk," Camille said angrily from the corner of her mouth when he reached her. She had turned so she was facing away from him, and now she started walking. She pulled him into the nearest supply closet, one that had been the sight of many fervent kisses, and faced him angrily. "So rumor has it your cute new girlfriend is hanging around the hospital."

Jess groaned. "Oh, God, no, Cam. She's just someone from the past. She showed up yesterday with a head injury."

"Oh, bullshit, Jess. You blew me off yesterday for her. She's not just 'someone'. Who the hell is she?"

"She's my ex-girlfriend, okay? The one from Stars Hollow."

Camille set her jaw. "The _one_ from_ Stars Hollow_?"

"Yes. Rory Gilmore, from Stars Hollow."

"Oh, God. She's _that_ ex-girlfriend? The one that made you swear off dates for years and write a book? That one?"

Jess nodded slowly.

"_And_ she's mentally unstable?"

"It's only amnesia."

"Oh, God!" Camille put her face in her hands for a moment, before looking back at Jess. "What the hell is she doing in Midtown?"

"I don't know," Jess said. "She lives in Brooklyn now."

Camille groaned. "Why can't they just stay where they come from? Why do exes always have to make trouble?"

"She's not making trouble," Jess said, a bit uncomfortably, as he was remembering the kisses from the night before. "She's just...here. I'm just going to help her for a little while, and then I'll send her back to Brooklyn."

There was a knock on the window, and the couple looked up, startled. "Who is it?" Camille called, unwilling to give up her fight just yet.

"It's me," Rory called sheepishly.

"Speak of the devil and the devil appears," Camille muttered, before pushing the door open to reveal the cause of the fight.

"Hey," Rory said, waving awkwardly. Neither Camille nor Jess moved, and Camille looked at Jess and said, "I don't believe a word you say."

"Oh, come on, Cam. You've got to believe some of them."

"Goddammit, don't call me Cam in the open!"

"Look around, Cam!" Jess exclaimed, leaving the confines of the closet for the open hallway. He spread his arms and continued. "Everyone knows! The more you try to hide it, the faster the rumor spreads, and no one cares!"

"Stop making a scene!" Camille hissed.

"No!" Jess yelled childishly.

"Oh, Lord," Camille muttered, her Southern accent thickening. "You sound like you're four!"

"Maybe I am!"

"This just isn't right. Something about this just isn't right. Are you sleeping with her?"

Jess laughed once, a hollow, humorless sound. "God, one-track mind. Medicine or relationship--no in-between."

"Are you?" Camille demanded.

"No!" Jess yelled. "She's my uncle's step-daughter. It's not like I'm taking advantage of her. She's practically my cousin!"

"She's your ex-girlfriend!"

"We dated before my mother married his uncle," Rory calmly told a passing orderly who was looking curiously at the group. "We dated first."

"I don't believe you! There is no way you're not sleeping with her! She's the girl who _ruined_ you, for months!"

Jess groaned, ending in a scream. "God! Get it through your thick skull! I'm not taking advantage of her!"

Rory, sensing her opportunity to rid herself of the obstacle-in-form-of-the-girlfriend, immediately piped up with, "Oh, he's totally taking advantage of me. Break up with him! Do it now!"

Camille let out a frustrated scream, and stalked off. Jess glared at Rory, who simply shrugged and said, "You did kiss me last night."

Jess shook his head and ran after his girlfriend. "Cam, wait!"

--

He was still not talking to her. He hadn't spoken to her since the end of his blow-up with Camille--which had, in the end, ended terribly, with Camille screaming that she didn't know how she'd ever thought she liked him and Jess screaming that her accent was terribly grating. In the end, it wasn't a "break-up and make-up" fight; it was, simply, a "break-up" fight.

And now he wasn't even talking to Rory, though he had taken her back to his apartment and shoved a stack of bedding into her hands before pushing her into the guest room and shutting the door. She made up the bed, pulled her bag of Red Vines from her purse and slowly began chewing through them, flipping through a book she'd found under the futon.

-

Jess was sitting on the couch in his living room, a snifter glass half-filled with chilled vodka on the end table next to him, his only indulged vice. He threw the magazine he had absent-mindedly picked up back onto the coffee table, before grabbing his drink so violently some of it sloshed out of the glass. He lifted it to his lips and took a swallow, allowing the liquid to burn his throat on the way down.

The phone rang, annoying him from his stupor. He got up, feeling every bit like the bitter old alcoholic that seemed to run in his family--though it could apparently be chased out by a good relationship, if his parents and uncle were any indication.

"Hello?" he grumbled into the phone.

"Um...Oscar?" Lorelai asked, referencing The Odd Couple and Sesame Street all at once.

"Sorry," Jess said, softening a little. "Tough day. What's up?"

"Uh...is Rory still there?"

"Oh!" Jess slapped one hand to his forehead. "She was supposed to call you, I forgot."

"Oh, no, it's fine. I just thought I'd make the first move. I mean, it's a little easier since she doesn't know all the crappy fights we've had over the years, but still. She doesn't know about them, right? I mean, she's not suddenly recovered? Oh, God. Does she hate me again? Please tell me she doesn't hate me."

"Lorelai, calm down. She still hasn't recovered, and she really wants to talk to you. Hold on, let me get her." Jess set the receiver down, and then walked to the guest room door. He knocked softly, and within seconds Rory pulled the door open.

"Are you talking to me again?" she asked, her face completely lit up.

He couldn't help but smile back at her, but didn't answer her question, and instead said, "Your mother's on the phone. She's a little nervous, but she can't wait to talk to you."

Rory, though a little nervous herself, both about her 12-year-older mother and her current trouble with Jess, grinned and headed to where she'd seen the phone earlier. Jess watched as she eagerly picked up the reciever, immediately twisting the cord around her finger.

"Hello? Mom?" She waited a few seconds, and then once again said, "Hello? Hello?" She turned to Jess, holding out the offending object blaring its dial tone. "She's not there."

Jess picked up the phone and said, "Hello?" a few times for good measure, though the dial tone was deafening in his ear. Only when the recorded woman's voice came on the line to tell him to hang up and dial again did he set the reciever down. "I'm sorry," he said to Rory, whose face looked about to crumble. "She really was there," he insisted.

Rory didn't say anything, only stepped forward and buried her face in his chest, her tears coming swiftly. He couldn't help but wrap an arm around her, comforting her as Lorelai must have done so many times when he'd made her cry.


	7. Chapter 7

**Title:**_Remembering Floyd Nightingale_  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.  
**Summary: **Jess is a nurse, with a doctor for a girlfriend. He's older, more mature, and has made friends with the people he works with. So, the one thing to sour his life? Rory Gilmore. However, she doesn't seem to remember much, as she might have amnesia.  
**A/N: **This chapter is short, but once I hit ten reviews for it, I will post the next one.

Dedicated to Asa and Lydia, who are kick-ass and awesome and tell me I'm brilliant and fabulous. Kudos, girls!

----

Jess woke up late the next morning with a crick in his neck and Rory's head in his lap. Confused, he glanced around and eventually realized they'd fallen asleep on the couch in the living room. And they'd fallen asleep there because Rory had cried herself to sleep after her mother had hung up on her.

Jess didn't want it to be true, but he knew it was. He just couldn't figure out _why_. Absentmindedly, he started stroking Rory's hair as he watched her sleep. She looked peaceful, though her tears had left streaks on her cheeks.

The phone next to Jess's hand rang, and he picked it up quickly so it didn't wake Rory.

"Hello?" he croaked, his voice full of sleep.

"Mr. Mariano, we're waiting for you," a woman's voice sang teasingly.

"Shit," Jess muttered. "How late am I?"

"Only about an hour," Julianne said, "but don't worry. The boss just noticed."

Jess sighed. "Can I talk to her?"

"Oops, no. She just went upstairs to a meeting. But she did say to tell you that you are not allowed to stay home today. She said that reporter woman is coming by for a follow-up."

Jess groaned. "Her again?"

"Yep!"

"Well, thanks anyway, Julianne," Jess said.

"Anytime!"

Jess hung up the phone slowly. He thought for a second, and then glanced at the girl in his lap. He was going to have to do something with her. He lifted her head slightly and tried to edge out from under her, but she sighed and wrapped her arms around his waist. He attempted to leave again, this time holding her arms and head away from him. He managed to get out from her grasp, and he lowered her head so it was resting directly on the couch. A look of displeasure passed over her face, but she settled down. Jess let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and headed for his room to get ready.

--

Rory awoke hours later, her cheeks tight from her crying binge. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and groaned at the crick in her neck. She glanced around her surroundings, deciding she'd fallen asleep while Jess was consoling her on the couch. But now she was alone.

She slowly got up, stretching, and checked all of the surfaces around her for a note. Eventually, she gave up, and padded into the kitchen where, taped to the handle on the coffeepot, was Jess's note. Very simply it said something about coffee grounds in a cupboard, satsumas on the dining table, and Jess had to run into work; he'd be back by five or so.

She wasn't sure what to do, so she set about making coffee. A few minutes later, with her cup full and her mind curious, she started to explore his apartment. She'd already checked out the books in the spare room, so she decided to dig a little deeper and snoop through Jess's bedroom. He had yet another full bookcase in there, packed to the brim. Some of them were repeats, and after pulling a few down, she discovered that these were the ones he read over and over again; the margins were almost completely black and blue, they were so full.

She moved on from the bookcase and towards his closet. She'd learned that closets were usually the best judge of someone's character, as they generally contained all the crap no one could bring themselves to throw away. Deciding that this was going to be an in-depth investigation, she decided to put her cup on the dining table and grab a chair--the best stuff was higher up.

She rummaged around for a few minutes, finding a few things: an invitation to Luke and Lorelai's wedding, birth announcements from Jess's mother and Luke, and an invitation to her own wedding. It was this one that startled her the most; she knew she'd been engaged, but she hadn't really thought about it. The wedding date was a year after her graduation date, and the invitation was the fanciest thing she'd ever seen. Luke and Lorelai's wedding invitation had been much simpler, and had ended with a notation saying casual attire was expected. Rory's own wedding invitation ended by saying that both black-tie attire and the invitation were required to enter the church.

After a few minutes of shocked staring, she hurriedly returned it to its spot and searched for more things. She found Jess's GED, his diploma from nursing school, and a few articles talking about his book. She'd just discovered a worn, full journal when there was a loud crash outside. Startled, she tried to put the journal down and get down from her chair at the same time. She was flustered, though, and got tangled up in her own arms and legs, and then she slipped from the chair sideways, hit her head on the side of Jess's metal bookcase, and eventually landed, unconscious, half on the floor of Jess's room, half on the chair.

--

Jess felt a little guilty; he hadn't hurried home right after his interview and shift, but had instead gone out for a drink with Ben. He'd ended up spilling the story of the last few days to his best friend, who had responded with a dry, "Uh-huh." Everything had been fodder for hospital gossip since his and Camille's huge blow-up in the middle of the hallway.

But after a few too many drinks and a couple of hours, Jess finally made it home. He opened the door slowly and didn't hear Rory, nor did he call out; he was almost dreading seeing her again. So much had happened since she'd reappeared in his life, and he didn't think it was particularly good. So he took his time taking off his coat and searching through his mail. He walked slowly to his bedroom, purposely avoiding the spare room and the kitchen, both places Rory was likely to be. He pushed the door open and didn't look inside for a second, still flipping through his mail. Finally, he glanced up and couldn't believe what he saw.


	8. Chapter 8

**Title:**_ Remembering Floyd Nightingale_  
**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.  
**Summary: **Jess is a nurse, with a doctor for a girlfriend. He's older, more mature, and has made friends with the people he works with. So, the one thing to sour his life? Rory Gilmore. However, she doesn't seem to remember much, as she might have amnesia.  
**A/N: **Ah! It's the last chapter! Sorry about the evil-ness of the previous chapter, but this should make it up. And you guys are getting spoiled, seeing as this is less than a month since the last update. There is an epilogue comin', so just review and hold your horses and it'll be here before you know. Everyone thank Stephie M for reviewing and pushing us past my 10 reviews incentive.

Extra special thanks go to my betas and my repeat reviewers, and this chapter is dedicated to everyone who's loved this story since it was merely a fic trailer with a buncha quotes.

Enjoy.

----

"Oh my God," he breathed, throwing his mail as far away from him as he could. He raced to Rory's side and immediately checked her pulse and her breathing. Her pulse was weak, but steady, and she was breathing--but just barely. He slowly, gently, lowered her legs from the chair, feeling for broken bones as he did. He continued feeling for broken bones all the way up her body, pausing only at her neck as her eyes fluttered open.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice gravelly from un-use.

"Don't move," he said. "As best I can tell, you fell and hit your head. I don't know how long you've been out of it, though."

She had been trying to stretch, to work out the kinks in her muscles. She stopped moving at his words, but didn't look at him. Instead she stared at the ceiling in confusion.

"Paul?" she asked.

"No, it's Jess," he said. Now he was confused. He had no clue who Paul was, and he certainly didn't think that amnesia-laden Rory did.

She closed her eyes again. "I was afraid of that." She swallowed, and took her time before opening her eyes. Jess watched her with her eyes closed, and realized that her voice had sounded different--older, more mature. More tired. He looked at her in disbelief; this wasn't the Rory he'd had in his house for three days. This was the real 31-year-old Rory, the one no one knew.

Abruptly, he stood. "I'm going to call an ambulance. I'll be right back."

"No, that's okay," Rory protested weakly. She was starting to feel the bruises all over her body, even without moving.

Jess left her alone, heading for his phone. He was suspicious of this new Rory, and not a little uncomfortable around her. While he'd known the old Rory, and had connections with her, this one was strange. This one hadn't spoken to her mother for years, and was radically different. He was going to have to treat her with kid gloves.

--

Rory didn't move the entire ride to the hospital, and almost never opened her eyes. She was frantically thinking, trying to figure out where the hell she was, how she got there; why she was with Jess instead of Paul. When she'd heard him speak, she knew without a doubt it was Jess; he sounded the exact same he had when she'd last seen him, when he'd given her his book. And that, of course, had been exactly how he'd sounded when they'd met at 17.

The last thing she remembered was leaving her apartment on her way to Denise's office. Paul had just left; he'd proposed to her the night before. She still had the ring, she could feel it on her hand. The weight was still unfamiliar to her; it had been nine years since she'd been engaged the first time, and her hands had been spectacularly unadorned that entire time.

She wondered if Denise had been contacted. She wondered if Paul had been. She wondered how long it had been since she'd talked to them, and she wondered if they were worried about her. She missed Paul, with his constant 'baby's. He made her feel safe; she was his baby, and he would never let her go. She missed Denise, with her crazy, almost Lorelai-like personality. She'd been going to Denise's office to flash the diamond ring and start planning the wedding, and maybe pick up another book to ghostwrite. Then she was going to fly out to Chicago, meet Paul in Evanston, and finally plan the engagement party that had just been made official. She wondered if she'd missed the party, or even, God forbid, the wedding.

And then suddenly she wondered: if she was lying in an ambulance with Jess at her side, had she spoken to her mother? Jess was definitely on her mother's side; he was the one who visited the Danes household on Thanksgiving and Christmas, he was the one the twins knew. Rory knew about them by proxy, by the cursory once-a-year card she received from her mother and her grandmother. She'd basically severed all ties with her mother when she'd gotten engaged to Logan, and then she'd severed all ties with her grandmother when she'd left Logan at the altar.

But now it looked as if she was closer to her mother. At the very least, she was speaking to Jess. She opened her eyes to look at him. He wasn't looking at her, instead watching out the back window. He looked strangely comfortable in the ambulance, and had been good under pressure when he'd found her. She tried to remember what it was he did. Was it something in the medical profession? That sounded right, but it had been years since her mother had mentioned him, so she wasn't sure.

She continued watching Jess the rest of the short ride to the hospital.

--

Upon arriving, Jess opened the ambulance doors before the paramedic did, and jumped down and grabbed the gurney. The paramedic was one he'd worked with before, a simple guy named George, and George let Jess take control. Jess wheeled the gurney into the hospital, but as soon as he got indoors he dropped back and let George explain the situation to Dr. Barnes. He watched as Rory disappeared, but didn't follow. Nor did he particularly care. He'd convinced himself during the trip that he didn't like Rory. He was forgetting the past few days and thinking only of the past ten years. This Rory was one her brothers didn't know; one her mother didn't know. This Rory was one who hadn't visited Stars Hollow in ten years, while Jess had visited at least three or four times every year. This Rory was one who was making him remember what he might have turned out to be, and he didn't like it.

--

"Hey, it's my favorite step-cousin of Mariano's! How ya doin', hon?" Ben sidled over to Rory's bed. After discerning that she had no broken bones, or internal bleeding, Rory had been moved from the trauma room and was now more or less in the exact same place she'd been days before, though she didn't remember that. She was currently being questioned by Dr. Barnes, who shook his head at Ben.

"She doesn't remember the last few days, but she does remember everything else," Dr. Barnes said to Ben. "We're going to give her a CT scan and then will most likely keep her overnight for observation."

"Where's Jess?" Ben asked, looking at Rory.

"I don't know," she said. "He disappeared after we got here."

Ben nodded. "Get better, okay? I'm gonna go find him."

"Okay," Rory said.

Ben smiled and lifted one hand in a wave as he walked back towards the entrance looking for Jess. He quickly checked the lounge, but Jess wasn't there. He eventually found him in the waiting area.

"What's wrong?" he asked, dropping into a seat next to Jess.

Jess sighed. "I was a shitty teenager and a shittier boyfriend, if that's even possible."

"Yeah, I heard about the Camille thing. Pretty rough."

"No, I'm not even talking about Cam. I'm talking about Rory."

"Wh-Rory? Your cousin? The one with yet another head injury?" Ben asked, pointing in her direction.

Jess sighed again. "Yeah. I dated her for about two minutes in high school." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and staring at the ground. "We had a pretty convoluted relationship, but it basically boils down to the fact that we were never in the same place at the same time. And I spent most of the time it took to figure that out hurting her. And then she hurt me. And we really haven't talked since then."

"Are you kidding me with this?" Ben asked. "What about when you made out with her?"

Jess sat up quickly. "That wasn't her! That was her before. She's different now."

"What?"

"She could remember everything until we were nineteen. We weren't exactly on speaking terms back then, but it was better than this. I think the last few days were...I don't know." Jess groaned. "I don't know anything anymore."

"What's so different about her?" Ben asked.

Jess shook his head. "No one knows her. She hasn't really talked to anyone in the family for ten years. She still talks to one of her friends, Lane, who used to work for my uncle, but Lane moved out of town and doesn't offer a whole lot of insight. The most we've known is where she lives."

"Huh." Ben paused. "Don't really know what to say to that. But why is that making you feel like shit?"

"Because it's reminding me that there was a time in my life that I probably could have turned out like that. That could have been me."

"There but for the grace of God."

"No shit."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Ben said, "So she doesn't remember the past few days."

"Right."

"But she remembers everything up to the crash, so her amnesia's gone."

"Yep."

"Talk about a soap opera. Next thing you know, her dead evil twin sister will walk through the door and claim she's pregnant with your baby. Or, even better, her dead evil twin sister will be Camille, who got plastic surgery and has been hiding out since her death."

"Tell me about it," Jess muttered.

Ben chuckled. "I've been watching way too much daytime TV."

"Tell me about it," Jess repeated.

"But, hey! Good news."

Jess merely looked at Ben, waiting.

"Alice is pregnant. So that's why she's been bitchy as hell lately."

"Hey, congratulations, man." Jess clapped Ben on the shoulder. "And my futon's always there for you."

"Thanks. I have a feeling we'll almost be like roommates over the next few months."

Jess chuckled.

----

The next morning, Rory stopped at the front desk on her way out of the hospital. "Do you know where Jess is?"

Stephen pointed toward the lounge, and Rory smiled and thanked him.

She entered the lounge a little apprehensively. When she'd woken up, she'd remembered everything, from first ambulance trip to second. She had to thank Jess for all he'd done before she left, and she also had to explain herself.

"Jess," she said, and he turned around from the coffeepot and handed her his cup.

"Here. I'll make another."

"Thanks," she said, looking down at the liquid. She took a sip, and then waited for him to turn back around. "Jess," she said again when he didn't.

"Rory," he said, finally facing her.

"I remember," she said softly. "I remember everything."

Jess nodded. "Good. So you'll be on your way?"

"I wanted to thank you. For everything. For how wonderful you've been the past few days. For being so close to Luke and my mother. And I also wanted to apologize."

Jess paused. "For what?" he asked after a second.

"For telling you no and sleeping with Dean. For not talking to you for years. For making you be the good child. For," she swallowed. "For breaking up you and your girlfriend. For yelling at you and kissing you. For changing."

"Don't apologize for changing," he said. "Change is inevitable."

"But I changed for the worse. I went crazy. I worked with my grandmother at the DAR, I avoided my mother like the plague, I dropped out of Yale for an entire semester. And you convinced me to go back to Yale, but I never went back to my mother. I always regretted that. I didn't think we could ever go back to the way we were, so I never gave us a chance." She took another sip of coffee, and then looked Jess directly in the eyes. "I did the same thing to you and me. Even after I broke it off with Logan. Even after I regained some of my sanity."

"Whatever," Jess said, but not harshly. "It's water under the bridge."

"Yeah." She smiled. "And that's another reason I want to thank you." She walked over to him, standing unnecessarily close to put her coffee cup on the counter. Then she reached up and kissed his cheek.

"I'm going back to Paul," she said, backing up a few steps. "He's wonderful. He makes me feel sixteen again. It's wonderful and horrible all at the same time. He's never someone I would have imagined myself with at 19, but I'm not sure I can imagine myself without him now." She laughed. "That actually sounds a bit sad. I'm not sure I meant it like that. But we're engaged. Hopefully this one will stick." She held up her left hand and wiggled her fingers, making the diamond sparkle in the light. "Well. I'll be going now." She headed for the door, but paused while opening it.

"Keep in touch," she said, glancing back quickly. "Let's not go another ten years, alright?" Her eyes sparkled as they had when she'd first seen him in the hospital. He couldn't help but smile.

"Alright," he said, and she was gone.

----

She couldn't do it. It was the most damnable thing, but she couldn't do it.

As she wandered around her apartment, looking through it the same way she had two days before, once again with different eyes, she discovered that she couldn't do it. She wasn't happy with her life the way it was; she'd discerned that much. She didn't know if it was where she lived, who she spoke to, or who she didn't speak to. She did know that something had to change.

The first thing she did was call Denise. She told Denise that they were going to take a trip to Connecticut first thing in the morning, and Denise was going to meet Lorelai. Rory assured her friend that they would, indeed, hit it off, and hung up.

Next she called Paul. She told him that she wasn't sure this marriage thing would work out. She asked if he'd ever read her book, which she'd given to him a few months back. He said he hadn't, and she told him that he should. She said if he read it and decided he liked the main character and could understand her feelings, they could get back together. Until then, they were through. He called her "baby" a few times, but eventually gave in. He said he'd been trying to find a way out for months now, but had decided that getting married would solve their problems. She called him stupid, told him to visit a therapist, and hung up.

Then she packed. She included clothes for every season and every occasion. She included everything she might ever wear again, and yet her closet was still half full with clothes when she was done. She wasn't sure how long she was packing for; she'd told Denise it would only be a long weekend but she felt as if she were packing to go home.

Finally, she wrote a letter. She addressed it to her mother, and in it she wrote everything she felt. She thanked her mother for everything she'd done over the years, including random things from her teenage years, huge things like forgiving her when she'd slept with Dean, and the simple things that were so wonderful, like sending her a Christmas card every year. She apologized for everything she'd ever done, including cutting up a favorite dress of Lorelai's at eight, when she'd tried to make a blanket for her mother like her mother had done for her. She also apologized for the last ten years, for never coming home, for never explaining that she'd changed back, at least a little. For never allowing Lane to tell Lorelai all about her, no matter how much she'd wanted to. She finished with a promise that she'd never do it again, if only Lorelai would hug her and welcome her back. She folded the letter and slid it into an envelope, then slid the envelope into her purse. She planned on presenting it to her mother when she got there, and hopefully her mother would read it.

She thought about writing something to Jess, at least a quick note, if not a full letter, or maybe calling him, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Instead, she settled everything near the door in preparation for the next morning and sat on her couch, deciding to watch as much of Dave's TV show as she could, if only to keep her mind off of everything.

----

She was asleep on the couch when there was a knock on the door. She was startled awake, and she sat up and paused the TV. She was in the middle of the second season, and she wasn't too far from what she remembered; she must have been dozing.

She stood and walked to the door, checking through the peephole first.

"Jess?" she asked, pulling the door open. She thought she was dreaming.

He didn't say anything, just stepped toward her. He wrapped one arm around her waist and kissed her.

Now she was sure she was dreaming.

She kissed him back, tasting the cold from outside, a slight tinge of coffee, and the very, very faintest taste of cigarettes. She didn't know if he'd partaken in cigarettes recently or if that was just how he always tasted. She couldn't remember the kiss from a few nights ago, only that she'd initiated it and he'd kissed her back.

He tried to pull away, but she wouldn't let him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him towards her. She enjoyed this. This was always what they were best at.

Eventually, she had to catch her breath, so she let go. She stepped aside so he could walk more fully inside, and then she closed the door behind him. She leaned against the door, watching as he looked around her apartment, obviously at a loss for what to do now. She didn't say anything, just watched.

After a minute or two, he turned towards her. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said. Sensing he was about to protest and apologize again, she lifted her bare hand. "We broke up." She'd taken the ring off after her conversation with Paul. She'd put it somewhere safe, though she couldn't quite remember where.

"Guess that one didn't stick either."

She smiled. "Nope. Maybe I'm just not the marrying type." She shrugged.

He smiled a quick, tight smile, and then looked at the floor.

"Jess."

He looked up.

"Why are you here?"

He shrugged and looked back at the floor. "I don't know. I guess..." He sighed, and looked back at her. "I guess I just didn't want to leave it at that."

She smiled. "Me neither."

"But you did leave it at that!"

"Jess, you just broke up with Camille. And I understand if you're not too sure about me; you really don't know me that well. At least, not 31-year-old me. But I didn't want to force myself on you. Sure, I did that a few nights ago, but I was really not in my right mind. We both know teenagers aren't mentally stable."

Jess cracked a real smile at that. "But what about Paul? I thought he made you feel sixteen, in a wonderful and terrible way."

"Forget about Paul," she said, walking over towards Jess. "I'd rather be seventeen or eighteen any day."

He smirked and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Oh, really?"

"Really." And she kissed him again.


	9. Epilogue

**Title: **_Remembering Floyd Nightingale  
_**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.  
**Summary: **Jess is a nurse with a doctor for a girlfriend. He's older, more mature, and has made friends with the people he works with. so the one thing to sour his life? Rory Gilmore. However, she doesn't seem to remember much, as she might have amnesia.  
**A/N**: This, my darling readers, is the epilogue. It's actually the second draft; if anyone wants the first draft, PM me, and I'll send it to you.

But anyway... It has been exactly one year since I posted the first chapter. And now, here we are, and it's finished.

Enjoy.

----

She stood at the end of the aisle in a T-shirt and jeans. Her father stood next to her, dressed similarly.

"You ready?" he asked with a wink as he took her arm.

"Don't let me trip."

"Right back atcha."

She squeezed his arm gratefully and smiled as they headed down the aisle. The pianist was absent, so Lorelai led the bridal party in a wordless rendition of the bridal march. Chris leaned over to Rory and muttered, "You know she's calling you 'big, fat, and wide' in her head."

"Always," Rory said. Lorelai, of course, took the opportunity to stick her tongue out at Rory, who stuck her tongue out back. Luke, standing behind Ben, sighed.

Rory laughed out loud. She caught Jess's eye and shrugged.

"What are we gonna do with these people?" she asked as Chris handed her off.

"It's your fault for letting the whole family participate," Chris said, kissing her on the cheek as he lifted her pretend veil.

Rory just smiled as she turned to face the minister.

--

After the rehearsal came the rehearsal dinner. The bridal party, which included Denise, Lane, Lorelai, Ben, Luke, Dave, and Chris, gathered in the diner to celebrate Rory and Jess. Denise brought her latest boyfriend, Lane and Dave brought each other, Luke and Lorelai left the twins at home, Ben brought Alice and his infant daughter, Liliana, and Chris brought Melanie, the woman he'd married after Sherry left him. Luke, Lorelai and Lane told as many embarassing stories about Rory's childhood as they could, while Ben told embarassing stories about Jess's first days as a nurse. There was lots of laughter, and though Rory's and Jess's hands spent a fair amount of time covering their faces, they also kept touching each other--on the arm, the leg, wherever. The evening ended with a round of informal toasts--which almost all began with, "The real speech is tomorrow, when I'm hopefully not as drunk." They all attested to the love found between Jess and Rory, who had survived a decade without each other and a bout of amnesia to come out on top.

Then, Jess and Rory kissed each other quickly, and separated until the next day.

--

She stood at the end of the aisle again, this time in the most elegant dress she'd ever worn. Her father stood next to her, wearing his tux.

"Last chance to shimmy down the drainpipe," he said, taking her arm and winking.

She smiled. "Do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"Don't let me fall."

"Can do."

She squeezed his arm. This time, the pianist was there, and so the bridal party was spared having to hum. Lorelai refrained from sticking her tongue out, but did make a quick face. Rory just smiled, and then found herself in the same spot as the night before. This time, however, her heart was pounding furiously in her chest.

"I'm proud of you, sweetie," Chris whispered, lifting her veil and kissing her cheek. Rory felt the tears coming as she squeezed his hand quickly before he took it away. Then Jess slipped his hand in hers, and she finally looked at him. He smiled, and her heartbeat steadied. She smiled back, and then faced the minister.

--

Years later, whenever he pissed her off, or they had a huge fight, or she started to forget why she'd ever married him in the first place, she would slip her ring from her finger and read the inscription inside: "Don't forget: This one will stick." And she'd smile, and repeat it to herself, and she'd make it through the fight and the doubt.

They were together until death did them part.


End file.
